Spoilers: after "Chosen" and "Fade to Black".
Disclaimer: I don't own the Angel or Buffy the Vampire Slayer shows, but I wish that I did so all the right couples would end up together in the end.
The sounds of "Holiday in Cambodia" by the Dead Kennedys roared from behind the doors of the black DeSoto as it pulled up to the curb. Within seconds, the volume was turned down from a scream to a dull whisper, and then the music was turned off altogether. The driver's side door swung open and Spike stepped out of his car with a smile. This mode of transportation wasn't the same one he had driven in Sunnydale, but it was close enough that most of the Slayerettes would think that it was the same one. It was night, the weather was beautiful, and he was in Italy…to see Buffy.
Things would be almost perfect if not for the little poof riding along in the passenger's side seat, he thought, turning just in time to see Angel struggling with the door handle. Why couldn't he have stayed in what was left of L.A., help Illyria clean up the loose ends of their grand final battle? No, he wanted to see the Slayer (well, they both did but at least Buffy knew that Angel was alive). Too bad Nina wasn't still hanging around because if she were, Spike wouldn't have this problem. He almost felt sorry for the boy though; it seemed that after Angel sent Nina out of town she had no inclination to come back to him. Even when he was trying to save someone it never seemed to work out.
However, that didn't give the arse an excuse to follow along to see Buffy. Not that it stopped him. Though Spike wished that, just this once, it would.
Angel finally managed to figure out that the door was locked and, pressing the necessary button, was freed from the car. He got up out of the DeSoto slowly with his duster doing that "I'm-the-bloody-champion-of-the-night-with-the-too-wide-forehead" billowing thing that he knew Spike hated. Sodding show-off.
Spike took his crumpled pack of cigs out of the pocket of his own leather duster, about to light up until he saw that there was only two left in the damn package. Bloody hell. He shoved the cigarettes back into his coat. Under normal circumstances, he would probably just go out to the nearest den of iniquity and get a box of those Italian cigarillos, but they were damned expensive and the platinum blonde vampire was a little strapped for cash since he had to pay his own way to get here. It would be worth going without his cigs for a day if he could only talk to Buffy for twenty minutes without the other soul-laden vamp nudging in with his impassioned vows of love or whatever he said to her when they were alone…
It took a tremendous amount of effort for Spike not to imagine what they did when they were alone. "So, " he said finally, trying to make his next sentence sound casual and not like he cared at all or anything, "Um…do you suppose she's still with Immortalis?"
Angel tried to play dumb like she wasn't the only thing on his mind since they left Los Angeles. "Who?" He glanced at his lack of reflection in the windows of Spike's transportation, though it wouldn't be frowning back at him even if the glass weren't tinted. The whole not having a reflection bit was a bitch sometimes, right up there on the list of vampiric annoyances next to crosses and sunlight.
"Buffy, you git. Do you think they're still…you know…"
"Is she still under the love spell?" Angel corrected him, crossing his arms over his chest like he was so cool, like Vanilla Ice in a trenchcoat and a brooding problem.
Spike shrugged, nodding slightly. "Yeah…the love spell." He no longer really considered the idea that their favorite slayer was under an enchantment of some sort, and he could tell that tall, dark and pouting didn't either. It was just an excuse to tell themselves that she could never love anyone but them…well, and Riley, but like they ever heard from that military genius anymore. He was well out of the picture; probably out in the Amazon jungle and shagging his army honey in a camouflage tent surrounded by minefields or something equally dangerous.
"I guess we should go find out, right?" his arch-nemesis suggested, and without another syllable, he took off at a fast paced walk towards the apartment complex.
Spike stood there, watching him for a moment and trying to decide what his first words to the love of his life would be. Then again, he wouldn't want the original Soul Boy to get too far ahead of him and sweep Buffy off her feet before he even had a chance to say hello, would he?
He jogged after Angel's figure with a sigh of frustration.
Big surprise, Angel was the one to pond on the door first. They had practically raced up the three flights of stairs to be the one to do it, but Angel had cheated by slamming his shoulder into Spike on the last stairway up and almost knocking him over the railing. Spike was sure that he would be bruising there later, but now he was more preoccupied with seeing Buffy.
After waiting what seemed like an eternity, the door swung open. Instead of seeing the blonde bombshell they were both expecting, Willow stood in the doorway wearing Nightmare Before Christmas pajamas and with her fiery red hair hanging in her face.
"Oh, hey Red." Spike tried to hide his disappointment with a forced grin. "How are you? You look, uh, nice-"
She interrupted flatly, "I look like shit and I know it." Comprehension suddenly dawned on her face as she remembered that the last time she had seen him, it was before Sunnydale was a huge crater on the surface of California. "Oh my god, Spike!" Willow squealed, jumping forward and giving him a huge hug. His smile went from fake to sincere in seconds as he embraced her back with a laugh, enjoying himself as Angel stood around looking uncomfortable and awkward.
He breathed her in, remembering how she had always smelled like strawberries and bubble gum, thinking how she still did but the scent of strawberry was a lot fainter. That was good, he guessed, but then why had she seemed so depressed when he first saw her? Was she jonesing for magic again or was something else wrong with the Scooby Gang?
Willow pulled away, looking him over with a smile. "Ha ha, Spike's wearing pink," she commented teasingly. Then she saw the other man standing there and waved a little at Angel. "Hi, Angel. Why didn't you tell me that Spike was alive?"
While Angel struggled mentally for an answer, Spike had a look over his own wardrobe to see what the girl was talking about. "Oi, that is not pink," he argued, finding the mentioned of article of clothing, a L.A. t-shirt that Lorne had bought him a bit after he had gone corporeal. "That is red."
The other vampire paused in the middle of his stuttering to peer at the shirt too. He shook his head with a smug look on his face. "Nope, that is pink, the pinkest pink that I ever did see," Angel agreed with a smirk.
"At least I'm not fat," Spike snapped, glaring at Willow for starting this whole ordeal. "Angel, you have gotten so fat that it sickens me to watch you train. You're like a sodding Richard Simmons with a depression problem trying to do jumping jacks."
Angel started to protest but Willow overrode him. "Can you two stop bickering for one second? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?"
The vampires looked at each other a trifle sheepishly. "We're here to see Buffy, is she, uh, around?" Angel said, peering around the door way like she was sitting just inside the room listening in.
Spike saw the girl's face fall and he wanted to hit the bastard for his lack of tact. Angel didn't know how to handle delicate situations and there was obviously trouble in paradise.
"Um…the entire gang is out in Cleveland right now, but they should be back in a few days," Willow told them, her face doing that thing were she doesn't want to say anymore so she drew into herself. She looked so damn vulnerable that Spike wanted to hug her again. "Why? Is something wrong?"
"Yes," the platinum blonde vampire shouted, nudging Angel in the side when he started to shake his head in disagreement. "Go get dressed quick, Red, and uh..we'll meet you downstairs in the lobby and tell you all about it, 'kay?"
When she ran back inside, door slamming shut behind her, Angel turned to Spike menacingly. "What the fuck are you up to? I thought we were here to see Buffy, not make up fake 'quests' that not only are wasting our time, but they're wasting Willow's time."
Spike leaned against the hallway wall and tried to explain, "Listen, Red doesn't look too good, right? Down in the mouth and depressed and all?"
Reluctantly, Angel nodded in agreement.
"Since the Scoobies aren't here," he continued, "It's our job to take her out to have a nice time, find out what's wrong, get her wasted off her ass, ex cetera. So, that's what we need to do. If lying to her, is the only way to get her out of the apartment, then I don't see a problem with it."
It was clear that Angel wasn't convinced. "I see a problem. Isn't she going to be pissed when she finds out that there is no problem and that we dragged her out of the house for nothing?"
Spike wanted to point out that they weren't 'dragging her out of the house for nothing', as bloody Fabio was fond of putting it, but he didn't since Willow would be coming out any second expecting danger and excitement. "No, she won't have time to get pissed because she'll be having the time of her life. I know you wanted to see Buffy, I did too. But she's not here and the least we can do is cheer Red up after all she's done for us and all we've been through. Now, are you in or not?"
"I'm in," Angel said finally, after thinking over quickly about how much trouble they were likely to get into with quiet, responsible Willow there. "If this blows up in our faces, I hope you realize that you're taking the blame for this one."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. At least I'm not fat…fatty mcfat fat," Spike threw back since he didn't know what else to say. He didn't like how the poof was brushing the idea back onto him, but on the bright side, if this worked out really well and made Willow really happy, he could always take the credit for it too.
"Shut up, Spike. I think she's coming back. "
Under his breath, Spike murmured, "Fatty fat fat fat…fat. You're fat, Angel."
Angel glared at him murderously, but at that point the door swung back open and Willow stepped into the hallway to join them, and he couldn't do anything about it.
She looked great; way better than before when she looked like she was about two steps and a leap away from suicide. Her red hair was pulled back in a pink scrunchie, her eyes were bright and alive, and the outfit was stunning. A dark green tank top with a Nike checkmark dominating most of the cloth. Tight, light blue jeans gripped tall legs that were ended by green and brown old school Vans. A little bit of makeup graced her features, a smudge of forest tones around her equally green eyes and a soft pink color lipsticked across her mouth.
Willow stopped in between them, and did a self-conscious half-turn so they could both see her entire outfit. Spike caught himself thinking that she cleaned up nicely and looked at Angel's face. He could tell they both had the same expression on their face; surprised and more than a little appreciative. The vampire made himself stop thinking of the witch and smile at her.
"How do I look?" she asked nervously, "I could go back in and change-"
"No!" Angel and Spike said simultaneously, glancing at each other for the faux pas.
The charming girl looked between the two of them with confusion.
"Um…no, you look nice, Red," Spike elaborated, not lying this time. "It's only that the midnight oil is burning and all, so maybe we should head out before the sun peeks over the horizon, right?"
"Okay…it's just that the way you guys were looking at me…" Willow didn't finish her sentence, but she smiled slightly, mood improving already.
Spike gallantly linked arms with her, grinning at her mischieviously. "We'll fill you in when we get into my car. Ready to go?" With the way Angel was still looking at her and the way Spike was suddenly feeling towards this girl with the brains and beauty, he was secretly wondering if the vampires would have to fight over her the same way they did over Buffy before the night was over.
She said cheerfully, "Ready." Then, arm in arm with Angel trailing not far behind them, they left the apartment building with different motives on each of their minds for their adventure.